


Unbridled Rage (A Vampire's Christmas)

by Explicit



Category: David Bowie (Musician), The Hunger (1983)
Genre: Christmas, Gore, Graphic Scenes, Horror, Killing, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot, Short Story, Vampires, Violence, distressing scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Explicit/pseuds/Explicit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Tis the season to be bloody..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winter Feast

The night was clear and still, most everyone had gone to bed by now except for those who had jobs to do or were too drunk to have found their way home yet. Staggering footfalls were the only sounds that broke the silence of one particular avenue, the aptly named 'Darke Street' where the streetlamps were either dull and flickering or simply out. This was not a good part of town, the wrong side of the tracks, the outskirts of what was once a thriving city but was now just a few derelict buildings and a couple of shops that were so frequently broken into; they didn't even bother locking up anymore. The strangest building in this little ruined town was a bank, it stood tall and proud with the latest in security and frequent guard changes as they patrolled the grounds both night and day. But John Blaylock didn't mind, he could do just about anything here and the police wouldn't even bother doing as much investigating as they should.

 

The night was suddenly pierced by a shrill siren, the bank's alarm had been triggered and his staggering footfalls halted as John stood and listened to another set of footsteps, hurrying and scrambling in his direction. He stood halfway through an alley, lit up a cigarette with shaky hands and waited most patiently as the bank robber sprinted towards him.

 

"Outta the way!" grunted the robber, "ooof!" 

 

A fist plunged directly into his guts, he dropped to the ground and struggled to catch his breath back.

 

"Stop! Stop!" came shouts from the other end of the alley, as the security guard came puffing around the corner of it.

 

Looking back down at the robber, clad in obvious black from head to toe and wearing a ski mask, John grabbed up his prize and tilted his head, mouth opening to reveal sharp teeth and two elongated fangs protruding from his upper jaw. The robber took a deep breath, wide eyes bulging as he prepared to scream and yet no sound emerged from his parted lips. His jaw sagged, his stare went blank and his body suddenly slumped to the ground. It'd happened that fast, he didn't even have time to register it. The security guard came puffing and panting up to him, smiling a little in relief as John sized him up, pupils still dilated from the rush of his most recent meal. The first one he'd had in days, due to the recent snow storms that had everyone bundled up inside and off the streets, including himself. He didn't really feel the cold but constant snow in the face was more than a mild irritation and it made hunting that much more difficult anyway. He'd had to spend the time with his meager reserves in the fridge and his old vinyls to keep him distracted, sleep was not easy when your hunger caused you intense pain but he had managed to get a few hours here and there.

 

"Thanks buddy," the security guard breathed heavily, "you just saved the bank over five million dollars!"

 

"Oh did I just?" John looked interested, then he smiled wickedly, "tell me sir, do you think your life is worth over five million dollars to me?" 

 

The security guard looked worried, went for his gun but found it wasn't in the now empty holster at his belt.

 

"Looking for this?" asked John, holding up the weapon.

 

The guard started to back away, holding up his hands to show his palms.

 

"Take it, just take it!" he said quickly, turning to run.

 

He slumped in the snow after about five feet, blood stained the otherwise purity of the newly fallen powder and John leaned over him, lifting his head and licking his bloodied lips. He slowly got to his feet, then he sank to his knees and growled, savagely tearing the body apart to locate the heart and liver. These weren't necessary to his survival, they just tasted sweet and added some body to his mainly liquid diet. It gave him something to chew on, which he did now as he tore up the insides and ripped at the flesh just for excitement's sake. He had never been a tidy feeder, wasn't really taught how to keep that aspect of himself under control and he fell victim to it always, needing the smell to be all over him, to be covered in the flesh and blood of his victims. Ripping out the spinal cord, John pulled at the backbone and snapped the rib cage, the sickening sounds music to his ears and eliciting growls of satisfaction and content from the hungry vampire. Never enough, John soon pounced upon the other body and rendered the flesh from the bones with his bare hands and teeth, dribbling blood down his chin and burying his face down into the chest cavity after snapping the ribs apart to reveal the sweet muscle inside. Biting at the heart and rearing his head, it hung from his jaw, almost in two as his wild eyes saw nothing but a red haze and the haze pulsed with the apparent beating of his own heart, which was nothing but a _'thud-thud'_ of a distant memory from long ago when he was once human. A clever trick of the mind, for his heart had not beat for centuries. In this state of excitement and confusion, John was not approachable by anyone, no matter who they were or even if he knew them and called them friend or brother.

 

Reaching his arm down into the slimy, still hot innards of the corpse, John curled his fingers around the liver and tore it free of the body. The steam rising from both corpses revealed just how cold it was outside and he lustfully gorged himself in the alley that night without any interruption. Groaning with pleasure, John ran his bloodied hands through his hair and growled, snapping his jaws with content and desire. He slowly got to his feet, looking like something out of a nightmare horror smash that should have mangled him but he'd managed to walk out of it somehow. His gaze dropped down to the two disfigured bodies, they did not look like people anymore and his red haze began to calm as he retreated back down the alley towards the street. He'd have made bloodied snow angels if he was younger, but he'd stopped doing that several hundred years ago.

 

He stooped along the way to collect the bag the robber had been holding onto so tightly that his hand was still there, fingers curled around the straps and twitching. John glanced around to make sure nobody was watching and then he ran, he'd be nothing but a blur to anyone who might have seen him, if they saw anything of him at all and he was soon home and keen to relax after his first meal in days. John threw the bag down into the basement, severed hand and all, it didn't interest him but it was his. He didn't need it, didn't really want it but he was possessive as Hell and he'd be damned if he'd just walk away and leave it behind.

 

Inside the bag was indeed over five million dollars in unmarked bills, that'd come in handy someday but then again, he had hundreds more just like it tossed down there. He shut the basement door and began to lick his fingers and hands clean, he hated waste and would sometimes even suck the blood from his clothes if he was feeling particularly frugal. It took him a while, but he managed to clean himself up enough and he took out an empty bottle of vodka, staring down the neck of it and eyeballing the lack of contents with disdain.

 

"Fuck it," he grunted, he'd have to go back out after all.

 

He knew a place, it never closed, so that's where he'd go right now and get plastered off his feet. It helped him to sleep off the daytime hours, the sunlight was a painful irritation to his kind but he could survive through it, he just didn't enjoy it and wasn't the sociable type anyway, he never really had been so why change now? He preferred the calm, cool, stillness of the night and it helped him to keep his fangs concealed until the last minute when he was ready to bite. He gave his hair a quick rinse in the sink, then he headed back and wandered off to the infamous nightclub known as 'The Devil's Locker'

 

John found the title boring and amusing all at once, but whatever, it suited his needs just now and that's how he was. Things and people existed to appease him and that was their only purpose in his mind, if they served no such purpose then they were of no interest to him and he paid them absolutely no attention at all.


	2. The Devil's Locker

John threw the door open, pushed past the door guards and seated himself at a table. He leaned back and gazed around, many avoided his stare and kept their heads down, not wanting any trouble. There were a few rowdy men at the back, John kept his eye on them as he got up and walked over to the bar, asking the bartender to send over three bottles of vodka and to keep them coming if he didn't leave before they were empty. He handed the man some money and received vigorous nods in return, then he sat down once more and pulled open the first bottle as they were finally brought to him and set down onto his table. He possessed each bottle right now, they were his and he would kill to keep them that way, literally.

 

John settled into his seat and necked down the first two bottles within minutes, as he was reaching for the third and the bartender was grabbing up the fourth to bring to him, a fight broke out among the rowdy men and one of them bumped into John's table, sending the third bottle smashing to the floor. John stared down at it blankly for a moment, the liquid spilled everywhere and the two men continued to punch and fight with each other and offered him no apology at all. This would not have appeased John anyway, he fumed and raged internally as he got up and lunged at the men, joining in the fight and landing several punches as well as receiving some to his gut and jaw. This only served to make him angrier and John allowed himself to be physically removed from the club by security, along with the two other men and all of their friends, who had come out to watch the end result of the brawl.

 

It could only end one way of course, John was furious and they would pay the ultimate price for wasting his booze. His clawed fingers grasped blindly, chunks of flesh tore easily from the writhing and hollering lads as John ripped through their skin and muscles like they were made of butter. His jaws snapped through bone, they could bite through solid steel just as easily and one guy had half his head cracked open, the flesh of his face was pulled away from his skull and looked like a crumpled mask, his brains spattered about his head and it took everyone several gaping moments to realize that John was fighting for keeps. They piled up on top of him, trying to subdue him but John just got more excited and surged, violently ripping and tearing in a frenzy that could only be compared to a school of piranhas feasting on something that had fallen into their waters and was foolish enough to be bleeding. The bodies of the men looked to be convulsing on fast-forward, their bodies thinning, becoming pale and eventually shriveling as if terribly aged.

 

But the aftermath was worse than that by the time he was done, the carnage was everywhere and their insides were outside now and strewn about to cover the road right across to the other side of the street. There was nothing left that resembled a healthy human being, he rose to his feet and snapped his head around as the stunned security guard from the bar stared at him but John made no move towards his lifeless corpse, the heart had stopped beating several seconds beforehand, most likely due to fear or shock and the man simply fell onto his knees and face planted onto the cracked cement slab right outside the door. John was still in animal mode, his eyes wild and his fangs snapping as he approached the fallen guard and fell upon him with greedy bites and gulps, slurping and growling as he shook his head like a dog with an old piece of rope. Why leave it to waste when it could keep him going for weeks if need be? John eventually just sat and played for a while, having finally sated his inner beast and was now entertaining his inner demon child, making failed castles with the large and small intestines and trying to make balloons with the lungs.

 

He did get bored of it after a while and headed for home once more, the blood soaked over him from head to toe by now and he looked like he had been swimming in a pool filled with paint. Chunks of flesh still clung to his hair, his fingernails were caked with bits of skin and scalp and hairs. His run was a little less sure this time, as he was intoxicated and excited to the point of near climax, which left his cock very hard and it was quite big so it made movement very uncomfortable indeed. He was far too bloodied to go and pick up a street corner slut, she'd run screaming from him the moment he became visible to her, so he was going to have to get this one himself.

 

John arrived home for the final time that night, purring and growling as he went to the bathroom and ran the shower, jacking off as the blood and bits of flesh ran from his body and clogged up his drain; effectively filling his bathtub with water, offal and blood. He turned off the shower and lay down to soak in the brew, gasping into release at last and spurting his cum into the mix.

 

It smelled exciting, his release adding to the perfume that wafted to his flaring nostrils. His eyes rolled and he growled, snapping his fangs in content and delight. This was happiness, this was home and this was John's idea of heaven. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to snooze for a while, eventually snoring as his drunken self fell into a deeper sleep and he didn't wake up again until he rolled over and almost breathed in a gulp of his special, homemade soup to go. It didn't seem very appealing to most, but he'd consume it in a pinch and refused to unclog the plughole even as he stepped out of it and wandered around naked to allow his body to dry off naturally. This was his home and there wasn't anyone else around to complain, not that they would for John was a tall, well built man with muscles anyone would be jealous of. They weren't bulging but pleasantly ripped and his cock was most impressive of all. He was a handsome fellow with sharp, piercing blue eyes and a thick mane of blondish hair that he took great pride in keeping neat and tidy for the ladies he might enjoy to take home on some rare nights when he was not feeling overly lustful and instead of taking them in the alley or in a hotel room, he let them into his world for a few brief hours until he killed them during their orgasm peaks.

 

He was not so selfish as to take their lives before they had finished, more often than not it was a street corner hooker that would catch his eye and not all of them were really women but he didn't complain, it was disappointing but then, blood was blood and sex was sex. There was always somewhere he could cum, everybody he brought home had a mouth and an anus, he just preferred a nice snug pussy or a pair of big, firm breasts to squeeze around his strong, thick shaft, that's all. Pleased with how his night had gone, John snapped his jaws with content and smiled at the record player as he knelt down and put on one of his favorite LP's from the 70's and he settled down onto his sofa with a wistful expression on his handsome features, still grinding his teeth about that lost bottle and planning to make a bottle shop run in the next hour or so. It had not been a typical night for him, he felt so spoiled and right on the holiday season too.

 

"Happy Holidays, John!" he spoke amusedly to himself as he kicked up his feet and laughed to himself, for who else was there?

 

It'd be Christmas day in a few short hours, he figured he must have been pretty good this year to have filled his stomach so heavily tonight.

 

 

 

 

***


End file.
